


Blood Pressure

by wargoddess



Series: A Family Affair [15]
Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Animalistic, Demons, Incest, M/M, Parent/Child Incest, Pre-Relationship, Prequel, Sex Pollen, Sibling Incest, pre-polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2020-06-28 10:45:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19810672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wargoddess/pseuds/wargoddess
Summary: A prequel to the "A Family Affair" series. Why did Vergil decide to induct Nero into their twisted little family dynamic? Because somebody asked him to.





	Blood Pressure

**Author's Note:**

> For an anon prompt I got at the w4rgoddess Tumblr: "But I'd love to read Vergil and Dante suck at emotion-ing together from you (because feelings are *hard*), or see what decided Vergil to try to claim Nero in your Family Affair series - if he ever talked to Dante about it -"
> 
> This one is set chronologically after whenever D&V came back from the underworld post-DMC5, and a few weeks before "Fatherly Guidance." Brief mention of the possibility of rape, no actual depiction, and the usual dubcon between these guys.

The fires aren't out yet, just banked for the time being, and Dante is licking a long wound on his forearm that hasn't healed yet. It annoys him. Not that the wound still hurts, or that his brother inflicted it on him during their last bout of fight-sex, but because it's just his own blood. He tastes plenty of that, and can taste more whenever he wants. What he craves, though, is Vergil's salty-metal, bitter-brimstone taste. He managed to score some during the sparring session -- foreplay, really -- but once they were, uh, otherwise engaged, Vergil pulled his dominant-demon shit again and made sure Dante's hands were caught the whole time, his claws forced into fists or otherwise rendered ineffectual. Then Vergil had taken his pound of flesh, of course, while pounding Dante into the rubble of old Redgrave, where their tryst had taken place. And Dante does not _mind_ , not at all, he actually loves the bruised feeling of his insides, the fiery pain of being slashed and torn, the lesser-but-more-maddening pain of having his skin written with patterns or runes -- but that's because he's a demon, too, damn it. Blood, sex, and violence are the fuel demons run on, and he needs more of it. Especially after going twenty years without.

Vergil, draped over a half-broken wall like a naked king on a throne, smiles at Dante's resentful glare. Bastard. Dante licks his arm again and finds to his great annoyance that the wound has healed. No taste even of himself. And there sits Vergil, who knows what Dante wants, and selfishly keeps all his blood to himself.

Dante shifts, minutely, from where he sprawls at the base of another wall -- probably the other half of the one Vergil's sitting on. He gathers himself to spring. Vergil knows full well what he's doing; his smile doesn't falter. Dante's smiling too, hard enough that the muscles of his face ache. Maybe it's not just a smile. Maybe his teeth have gone sharp. But it's a smile, too, because... _shit_ , it's good to have Vergil back. For however long he stays, Dante's going to enjoy every minute.

Vergil licks his lips, watching Dante, and there's still a hint of red in his teeth. But he says, "A moment, brother, before you fall upon me like a beast again. Did you notice that we weren't alone, that last bout?"

Dante's not really a hundred percent present. Or rather, he is, but his brain's roughly fifty-fifty divided between the head on his shoulders and the other one. It takes a moment for him to process the words, and then he doesn't care. "Scavengers?" Mostly Redgrave is deserted, but a very few very brave humans have begun venturing through the dead city, looking for money or treasures. Stupid humans. Oh, Dante gets it; he's careless about his own poverty because he is blessed/cursed with a body built to survive the most hostile aethers of the underworld. Starvation and homelessness are no real threat to him. But there are better ways to get money, and...

...eh, fuck it, he wants sex. He pushes to his feet.

Vergil's gaze is slow and appreciative as it pans up Dante's body, lingering briefly on his very ready cock before it continues up to his face. "Not scavengers," he says. "Nero."

"Uh-huh." Dante's taken a step towards Vergil already; then he processes the name, and stops. "The kid?" He takes a step back, some of the haze of lust clearing from his mind. Nero, here? Watching them. God, they'd done most of it in demon form that last time. "Damn."

Vergil tilts his head. "It troubles you. That he saw."

The comment is inane, and Dante glares at him. "Of course it _troubles_ me. He's -- a kid." Vergil's head tilts more. "Okay, not a kid. I mean, I've known him since he was, but..."

"He's a man grown. And more responsible than you, in many ways."

"Look, that's not hard." Dante sighs and turns to start pacing, needing to vent frustration if they're going to talk instead of fuck. "He's _my nephew_. I _like_ him, the little asshole. He looks up to me, God knows why."

Vergil just looks at him.

Dante spreads his hands. "He saw us fucking!"

Vergil continues to look at him. Okay, that's pissing Dante right off. Dante stops pacing and puts hands on his hips. " _What_."

"Even after fighting his way through the Qliphoth, he smelled of a human woman. Strongly enough that sex is clearly not unknown to him -- "

"Not what I mean."

"What do you mean, then?" Vergil drew up one knee and rested his arm on it, looking thoughtful. "He watched for some time. Seemed especially entranced by the claw-work."

Dante feels the rage coming on and can't stop it. It's too fast. It's not even his demon; stupid thing is asleep, having gorged itself on the blood and death of battling through the Qliphoth, and also through these first brutal, beautiful nights of the renewed relationship with Vergil. This anger is all Dante. "Leave him the fuck alone."

Vergil goes still. Dante takes a step closer, hands balling into fists. "I _said_ \-- "

"Do you want him, then?" Vergil asks.

Now it's Dante's turn to go still, from shock. There's no expression on Vergil's face, no judgment or censure, but unease roils in Dante's belly. "What?"

Vergil shrugs. "He's well-proportioned. Healthy. Strong." His visible hand, hanging loose, twitches a little as if he is imagining his own claws. "He defeated me, but made no demand other than that I, figuratively, _leave you the fuck alone_. So it seems he feels the same way about you that you do about him." He levels a thoughtful look on Dante, and Dante goes cold as he realizes Vergil has begun to consider the boy a new rival. That's not going to end anywhere good. "You haven't laid claim to him, though he's lacked the strength to deny you until lately. Why not?"

Dante bares his teeth. "Because I'm not like _you_. I don't go where I'm not wanted -- "

" _You_ wanted." Somehow Vergil manages to pack both dismissal and a scold into that brief sentence. Dante flushes, because -- well, it's true. "And in this case, he might very well want, too. I told you how he watched us. It suggests... interest."

Oh no. "Or disgust! He's not like _us_ , Verg. He was raised by humans! Prudish, fucked up humans who taught him that demons were monsters, that he was a monster -- "

"Demons _are_ monsters." Vergil's gaze pins Dante now, like a sword through the sternum. "He is a monster, just like us. He always has been -- and now that the demon inside him has awakened, he's about to find out just _how much_ of a monster he is. As you well know."

This takes all the wind out of Dante's anger. He stands there, quietly despairing, lust forgotten, at a complete loss for what to say or do. He remembers what it was like, after Vergil forced his own demon awake. Learning to rein in new, horrific urges. Realizing that he _could not_ rein in some of them -- and then isolating himself more and more from the humans he knew, for fear of hurting them. He couldn't remember the last time he'd done anything but oral with a human lover. Even that was such a risk that he only dared with other devil hunters, who could at least shoot him in the head to snap him out of it if he lost control. The real hilarity was that he'd never suspected Nero might be _his_ son, because you had to fuck women to make kids, and even before his awakening he'd shied away from them. Most of them were just so _fragile_.

Like Nero's girlfriend. The kid loves her, though. That has to mean something.

"We're worse than pure demons, in some ways," Vergil observes, his voice relentless as Dante stands there, aching. "Demons don't love, normally. Their emotions are pale copies of what humans feel. That kept Mother safer with Father than she might have been even with a human lover, who could grow jealous, or paranoid. He knew his own nature well after living for thousands of years, and was unlikely to surprise himself with unexpected bloodlust or the sudden desire to rape his wife. If such urges came upon him, he knew how to deal with them safely."

And Nero does not. Dante takes a deep breath. "I'll talk to him."

"Demons," Vergil says coldly, "do not _talk out_ their problems." He pauses, which makes Dante brace himself. Vergil does not sucker punch. He calls his attacks, so that when you inevitably fail to dodge or withstand his blows, you know that he destroyed you fair and square. "And if you had taken him before now, we wouldn't be in this position. He would know himself better. And _you_ wouldn't be mistaking possessiveness for protectiveness."

Dante flinches. God. But. He can't lie to Vergil. Can't lie to himself in front of Vergil. Vergil barely understands humanity, but he's a damn Ph.D. when it comes to half-demon psychology. _Dante's_ psychology.

But... has he actually been _wanting_ the kid? He's always thought Nero was lovely, and... yeah, as Nero's grown bigger and stronger and more handsome, Dante's caught himself looking. He's had dreams, though never quite conscious thought. He hasn't let himself think about it -- his brother's son, for shit's sake. A personal taboo which means less than it should, given how much of his brother's dick Dante has taken.

Vergil abruptly climbs to his feet, which makes Dante tense out of pure reflex. Vergil regards this with lazy arrogance -- of course Dante fears him, he expects this, and of course he will take what he wants from Dante whenever the urge next strikes him, which will be soon because his dick hasn't flagged like Dante's has. Then he makes a standing leap from the pile of rubble where they've been postcoitally resting, up to the top of a half-broken tower nearby.

Dante takes a deep breath, tells himself to get a grip, and leaps up to follow, crouching on the edge of the tower. They're in the remains of someone's bedroom; there's a dry-rotted pile of cloth gathered at the corner of the tower that's the closest vantage for their tryst. Vergil crouches, then picks up what looks like a pillowcase. He brings it to his face, inhales deeply -- and jerks upright, his pupils widening visibly and breath quickening.

"What?" Dante asks. Wordlessly, Vergil hands him the pillowcase. After a moment's hesitation, Dante bends to breathe in essence of Nero. At first it's just a hint of familiar sweat, sword-oil, and gun-oil. Nero's hand rested here while he watched. Nero usually smells human, with only the faintest whiff of demonic essence, and that only after he's been in a fight -- as if he somehow becomes more demonic in the presence of other demons. This time, however, Nero's sweat is layered, strange. Human is only the surface of it. Beneath that is the musk of a powerful young demon, almost overpowering his human-ness. And beneath that --

"Whoa," Dante says, pressing his face into the cloth. "This is -- " It's intoxicating. A melange of pheromones advertising Nero's health and fertility and readiness; lingering hints of arousal and embarrassment; and underpinning it all, a scent of sexual need so raw that it makes Dante's whole body ring. It's like perfume. He breathes it and wants more and breathes it again and his dick's getting hard again and breathes it and he wants to go find the kid, right away, so that he can... can... what?

The demon in him stirs. Belches. _Fuck him, stupid_ , it says, then drops back into slumber. It never has had much patience for Dante's bullshit.

"That human woman is nowhere near enough for him," Vergil says. His eyes are closed, possibly because he's shaking and panting and trying to tamp down the need to go and find Nero himself. "His demon _starves_ , and cries out in its hunger." Then Vergil opens his eyes, practically glaring at Dante.

And that's when Dante realizes Vergil's making it his choice. Vergil is Nero's father, but Dante has known him longer, and been more of a mentor to him. He has the prior claim, for whatever that's worth.

He cannot abandon Nero to this. It would be worse than cruel. The scent on the pillowcase means that the boy will be vulnerable to _any_ demon who's strong enough to rival him -- he'll have to fight his own instincts, which will demand that he yield or stake claim, as well as the enemy. There are ways to buy time before the situation gets acute. Trish, if she's willing, or maybe Dante can see if Lucia's still speaking to him. Sparring will help, too, for a while. Eventually, though, Nero will end up alone, terrified of himself, and weakened by his own desperation. Dante, of all people, cannot do that to him.

The kid's so human, though. Will he understand, if Dante...? No, he won't. Unless Nero suddenly decides that he wants Dante first, it would be a kind of betrayal.

But... there are options.

"I can't," Dante says. He'll only make things worse. "But could you... shit. If you..." He knows what he's asking. Vergil won't be gentle with the boy. Vergil doesn't know how to be gentle. And all Nero knows of his father, so far, is violence.

But isn't violence better than nothing? Isn't that the choice he's made for himself, all these years?

Vergil growls softly -- then hooks a hand around Dante's head, grabbing his hair and yanking his head back and biting his throat hard enough to make Dante cry out. It hurts like a bitch. It also makes everything in Dante that's been stoked by Nero's scent come alive. Fire's lit again, hoo yeah, with lighter fluid, and what he really needs right now is for Vergil to throw him down and fuck him until he screams.

Ask and ye shall receive. Vergil has him on the ground in a second, holding him down by the throat and forcing a knee between his thighs and grabbing his cock for hard, quick tugs that make Dante sob and beg for more. But Vergil's never just been about physical pain. 

"I'm going to fuck him like this," he breathes in Dante's ear, when he's inside Dante and the world has shrunk down to pleasure and jolting and muscles flexing beneath his hands. "I'm going to tear him up, brother, while he curses and fights me and _loses_." 

Dante opens his mouth to say something uncle-ish, he doesn't know what, and Vergil's hand slides from his throat up to cover his mouth. With his free hand, Vergil grabs the pillowcase and holds it where both of them can't help but breathe in that amazing, heady scent. It makes Dante howl around Vergil's hand and change his fingers into claws, which shred Vergil's back. It makes Vergil throw back his head to _shout_ , wild with the scent and the pain, fucking Dante faster and harder and not caring when the friction between them drives Dante to utter a muffled scream as his cock throbs and gushes against both their bellies. While his vision is clearing, Vergil bends to his ear again.

"I'm going to make him come like that," Vergil snarls. "I'm going to come inside him, _my son_ , until my seed runs out of my seed." He laughs. It's awful and Dante twitches with aftershocks, gasping helplessly. "I'm going to do everything to him that you wish you could, and I'm going to _make_ him enjoy every moment of it -- Dante --!"

And then he is coming too, pulling free of Dante and uttering soft guttural grunts with each spasm as the sticky wetness mingles. Then he moans softly as relief spreads in its wake. He's not usually so loud, Vergil, but Nero's scent is like spurs driving at both of them, though the worst of the effect has finally begun to ease now that they've spent themselves. Vergil's hand is still over Dante's mouth, but he presses his face against Dante's cheek and kisses him there sloppily, then presses his forehead against Dante's temple while he catches his breath. 

"Ah, my Dante," he breathes, finally. "I can't wait. I'll make it so good for him. And if _he's_ good..." Vergil's lips brush Dante's ear. "I might even let you both have a taste of each other."

He flops off Dante and they lie panting beneath the sky as it darkens toward evening, touching only where Vergil's hand has found his and -- with apparent carelessness -- laced their fingers together. Dante knows better than to read anything into it. Vergil doesn't do affection, except by accident or in moments like this, when afterglow has warmed the cold of his soul by a degree or two. It won't last.

Still. It's nice. Vergil feeds the hungry beast in Dante like no other lover ever has. And the thought of sharing this bliss with Nero is... not unpleasant.

And if Nero is good for Vergil... 

Dante shudders, and does not quite mean to, but he lifts a hand to his lips. Licks the fingers, and trails the wet fingertips down his chin. Over his throat. Down his torso, wending from nipple to abdominal and then the trail of hair that leads further down. He fingers his spent cock and feels a stirring in his guts that's so powerful, he has to check to make sure he hasn't gotten hard again. Not quite yet. 

But if the kid should ever need him... It will be nice to finally find out what Nero's blood tastes like.

God. He's just as bad as Vergil. Poor kid, saddled with the two of them. But maybe it will be good. No. Dante will make _sure_ it's good. That's the least he can do after unleashing Vergil on him.

Nero's scent is still thick around them, and the stirring has become something more. Yay for demon recovery times. Well, they've all got hungry demons to satisfy, don't they? And both Dante's and Vergil's have twenty years of hunger to make up for. He rolls onto his hands and toes and blows a kiss at Vergil before saying, "Get the hell up. If you're going to try it with him, we gotta get your stamina up. Round Three."

Vergil laughs -- but gets up, eyes gleaming, and then once again it's on.

**Author's Note:**

> Damn it. I keep making these things too long. But you guys keep asking for angst instead of plain old porn, and angst requires a bigger wordcount!
> 
> I did enjoy writing this one, tho. Vergil and Dante basically *huffing* Nero like some kind of supernatural ecstasy! Good shit yo. Also I had to kind of mentally "reset" both characters, and reckon with the fact that they're resuming a relationship with a twenty-year gap in it. So instead of being the more introspective Vergil who's developed over the course of the "A Family Affair" series, Vergil's still something of the violent bastard that he was back when they were 18/19 (referenced briefly in "A Brother's Comfort") and at the tail end of DMC5. Still, I wanted to show that he's already changed thanks to his time as V and general maturation, and is starting to show Dante signs of affection, tho Dante completely discounts them at this stage of things. Also at this point Dante still expects to lose Vergil at any moment. Hope it came across that all the stuff he fears for Nero is what *he* went through, over the intervening years.
> 
> Apologies for mention of the dreaded DMC2. I hate that damn game... tho I do think of it as "when Dante had been alone too long and was especially depressed about it." Beyond that, ugggggh hate.
> 
> My period of relative freedom has ended, so I may not get to the other prompts, sorry! Will whittle away at them slowly, if I can, but no promises.
> 
> Wow, these end notes are getting longer.


End file.
